Relation
by eeveekitty85
Summary: [Torchwood] Ianto gets a visit from a relation, and somewhere in Cardiff there's a killer with a terrible secret who's about to lose control...again...Snippets of JackIanto, but nothing too graphic. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Relation**

**Notes: **Isn't it strange how fics turn out? My original idea for this story was of a nasty family member who'd try to convince poor Ianto that he was some sort of evil demon…yes, I've been watching too much Buffy again. If you want to see precisely what inspired that wacky plot bunny, see the episode 'Family'. Now the demon has thankfully been relocated to a much better host (although I guess we'll have to call it an alien now, right?) and Ianto's family member is a lot less evil. Thank goodness for that.

It's no secret that I love Ianto and am hoping for more of him in the second series. And besides that, I find the idea of characters from a show like Torchwood having very normal (ie dysfunctional) families really intriguing. Catching a glimpse of Tosh's mum was fascinating for me. Because I'm a huge square.

For Kathleen, my Torchwood buddy, who loves the idea of 'Annie' and giggled about it for quite some time.

For Nez and Roy, because they're awesome. Credit goes to Roy for the SUV action, and much credit goes to Nez because I held this over her head for weeks, feeding her little snippets and making her wait for the complete copy. It nearly drove her bonkers. The again, if it did, I probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference…

And for Cossie and Morph, because sometimes the best kind of friends are the ones you'll probably never meet.

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…_ten…nine…eight…_

Counting down the seconds in her head. So difficult to concentrate with blood swirling and pounding in her ears, and her vision swimming with hot, painful tears…

…_seven…six…_

If she's screaming, she can't hear it anymore. Feels like something tearing at her insides. Knives, but hot, clawing at her, ripping. It's forcing it's way out. Again.

…_five…four…three…_

Gripping the edge of the cold porcelain sink so hard that her knuckles turn a deathly white. One fist flies out. The mirrors smashes, sending shards of glass into her hair.

Blood trickles down her forehead, mingling with the sweat and grime and angry tears on her face. She wouldn't look at herself even if she could. Grinds her fists into the remains of the mirror, punishing herself. Out of control. Again.

She won't remember anything after this.

…_two…one…_

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Back when he'd had a normal job, Ianto had dreaded Monday mornings, just like most of the rest of the population. A dull office with incredibly dull people who seemed to think one of life's greatest highlights was going out for a kebab. It had been constraining, not to mention tiring. But that's the way it all works, Ianto mused as he locked up his car. You have to work your way up. Then you get to break free.

Of course, to an outsider, Ianto still had the most boring job at Torchwood. But he sure as heck didn't dread Monday mornings with quite the fervour he used to. All those poor sods with mind numbing desk jobs, and he worked in an underground base in which one of his daily duties was to feed a pterodactyl. And there was always that superior feeling he couldn't quite suppress when he overheard someone moaning about their job, the feeling that what he was doing _mattered_, it was _important_.

He was so absorbed in these slightly smug thoughts that he didn't even notice her.

"Annie?"

Ianto jumped, wondering who had spoken for a moment before realisation hit him. Only one person enjoyed humiliating him enough to call him _Annie_. And there she was, that lopsided grin of hers stretching from ear to ear, perched on his desk in the reception of the Hub.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, feeling considerably unnerved by her sudden appearance. "And come to think of it, how did you get in?"

"No, the correct response is: 'oh my beloved sister Alis, how lovely it is to see you again!'"

Ianto smiled. "Yes, of course it's good to see you," he said graciously, dropping his keys on the desk. "So how's uni life? Living off Pot Noodles yet?"

"Of course, because I'm completely incapable of cooking anything that doesn't come with it's own plastic spoon," she said, rolling her eyes. "And uni's brilliant…stressful at times, not to mention tiring, but brilliant."

"Hmm…are you sure?" He was feeling a little suspicious now. "You never come and visit unless you want something. You still owe me one hundred and twenty six pounds."

"One hundred and twenty six?" Alis said with alarm, her eyes widening.

"I have a tally."

"Of course you do." She jumped off the desk and hugged him tightly around the waist. "I missed you Annie."

"Don't…don't call me _Annie_," he muttered, feeling himself going pink even though there was no one else around to hear it.

"Annie?" He had been wrong of course. And yes, it had to be Jack, propped against the door with a bemused smile on his face. "Something you've not been telling us Ianto?" Alis looked delighted, but Ianto rolled his eyes, a pained expression on his face.

"This is my little sister, Alis," he explained. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Which you already knew, since I presume you let her in."

"Well, how could I refuse?" said Jack, grinning now as he studied the pair of them. "I can see the family resemblance. That cute little button nose of yours Ianto, and of course, that beautiful Welsh accent."

"Don't forget the snappy dress sense," Alis chimed in, giving a little twirl.

"I think I'll leave you to it," Ianto said, trying to make his escape.

"Don't worry Ianto, I still think you're way prettier than her," Jack said. "Coffee?"

"Coming right up sir." Jack treated him to a flash of his most charming smile then disappeared into the Hub. Alis followed Ianto through the beaded curtain to the spotless kitchen, stretching like a cat.

"I had a long journey, not that you asked," she said, yawning widely. "London to Cardiff. Takes a bloody long time. And I had some moron behind me in the train playing his iPod at nose bleed volume and kicking the back of my chair."

"There's no way you just stepped off a train," said Ianto with a small smile. Alis looked 'freshly painted', as their mother used to say. She was also wearing a strange assortment of clothes which either represented a new student craze, or his sister's own bizarre (although she preferred 'unique') take on fashion. "Did you get dressed in the dark again?" She gave him a shove.

"Because your outfit is so hip and happening," she said with a smirk. "You look like you just stepped out of some snobby prep school."

"Well you see, people have this place where they go, and it's called _work_," Ianto began.

"Is that why Jack's wearing braces?" she said, her eyebrow raised. "Or as you call him, _sir_."

"Watch it you," said Ianto good naturedly, spooning ground coffee into a large cafetiere. "How's mum?"

"Fine, I think," she said vaguely. "I haven't been to see her recently. Haven't really had the time."

"Alis." Ianto gave her a disapproving look.

"Well I haven't!" she protested, scowling. She sighed. "I'll give her a ring if you think it's that important."

"Of course it's important," he said, still disapproving. "Now look, you can't hang around here all day."

"Nowhere else to go," she said with a shrug. "Pretend it's 'take your sister to work' day."

"Or not," he said quickly, throwing his keys in her direction. "Give me ten minutes. I'll meet you in the car. You can go back to my apartment for the day, as long as you promise not to make a mess."

"Scout's honour," she said, snapping a salute. "Just tell me where you keep the chocolate."

"Not a chance," he muttered. "And phone mum!"

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When Ianto returned home much later that day, Alis was reading a glossy magazine with her feet propped on the coffee table. He bent over and pulled one of her earphones out. The sound of crashing cymbals blared from the tiny speaker.

"Oi!" she complained.

"Feet off the table," he instructed, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt.

"And how was your day?" Alis asked, sweetly enough to be sarcastic, turning off the mp3 player.

"Puzzling," he said, getting out a mug for himself. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Y'know, you have four kinds of regular coffee, two types of decaf, an espresso machine, three sizes of coffee cups in various colours, and only four teabags."

"Tea is soothing," he said, putting the kettle on. "I prefer to be tense."

"So why puzzling?" she asked, propping her head on the back of the sofa so she could look at him. Ianto's apartment was neat but cosy, with an open plan kitchen and living room and a couple of doors leading off to his bedroom and a study. Alis had been pleased to find a picture of her and Ianto on the kitchen windowsill. A silly holiday snap, with them pulling faces at the camera and Ianto wearing a huge novelty sombrero (although, as she remembered, not by choice).

"Alis, the kind of work that I do…it's not for public knowledge."

"You make it sound like something out of the X-Files," she said sarcastically. "Come on Scully, I'm not a member of the public. I'm family."

"Speaking of which, did you phone mum?"

"Quit changing the subject Ianto," Alis whined. She sighed. "Look, it's not like I have anyone to tell. I know it's something to do with the government…"

"Wrong," said Ianto, smiling to himself. She was certainly persistent.

"Oh fine," she huffed, switching on the TV. "Don't tell me then. I don't care."

Ianto paused, knowing that Jack wouldn't be pleased if his little sister knew what kind of work they did at Torchwood. But Alis had always liked to flaunt her exciting life and supposedly 'super-cool' friends. Nowadays, Ianto knew for certain that in the interesting life stakes, he was the clear winner. So what would be the harm…? "In a word, murder," he said, realising at once from her wide-eyed reaction that he'd made a mistake in telling her. "And don't you dare tell Jack that I told you."

"Murder? What kind?" she asked eagerly.

"The kind where someone gets killed."

"_Ianto_…come on. You've already told me part of it."

The sensible portion of Ianto's brain screamed at him to stop talking _now_, before she found out too much. Sadly, Ianto decided that for once, he would go with his instinct, not his common sense. And contrary to popular belief, these were two very different things. "A man got ripped apart by something with very long, sharp claws and a lot of teeth."

…_a sickening, wet tear, the sound of flesh being slowly drawn apart. A terrible screaming, and all she can do is rip, and bite, until the flailing and the crying stops, and she's got to go home and wash the blood from under her fingernails…_

"…Owen and Tosh are at work on a DNA sample, so it shouldn't be long…Alis?" Ianto noticed with some concern that his sister had suddenly turned very pale. She looked at him blearily, her eyes focused on some point beyond him. Then she seemed to slowly rouse herself from whatever stupor she was in and gave him a weak smile.

"Sorry…what did you say?"

"Doesn't matter what I said," he said, rushing over to feel her forehead. "Are you sick? Is that why you decided to visit?"

"Don't be so paranoid," she said tiredly, pushing his hand away. "I'm fine. Just…tired out from the journey still."

"Then for God's sake lie down. You look terrible."

"Oh thanks," she said irritably, sinking back into the sofa.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked gently.

"As long as it's not coffee," she said, her eyelids drooping. "Use up one of those teabags maybe."

"OK," he said, ruffling her hair affectionately. It was so odd to see her take ill so suddenly though. Maybe his stories from work had been a bit too much for her to handle.

"Stop worrying about me," she murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. "I'll be fine after a bit of rest. But tomorrow, I want to see exactly what my big brother does for a living."

Ianto stayed quiet about that. He wasn't sure quite how much family members were supposed to know about Torchwood. Alis probably thought he worked for some obscure branch of the police force.

"Ianto?" Alis's eyes flickered open again. "You said something with claws. Does that mean an animal?"

He hesitated. "Almost certainly some kind of animal," he said eventually. After all, that wasn't really a lie, was it?

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Thoughts? Drop me a review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Relation Part Two**

**Notes: **Thank you for the encouraging response I've received so far! This is quite a long chapter, but it's also a fairly long (ish) fic, so I don't want to drag it out too much. If all goes well with it on here I'm hoping to post it on LJ, so please do give your honest opinion so I can brush it up a bit more.

I recognise that for some of you who already read the second chapter of this fic, this will be a repeated post. However, I have decided to post it again due to an error by this website by which my story did not appear on the first page of Doctor Who fics, and then disappeared from my profile. Which by the way, was extremely annoying. Thank you, lovely lovely website with no certain means of contacting anyone in charge.

Anyway. On with the fic!

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"Just stay here," Ianto instructed. Alis nodded and settled herself behind the desk at reception. "I'll go and talk to Jack." He pressed the door release button, but turned around again in time to see Alis rooting through some of the papers on his desk. "Don't touch anything!" he added, and Alis scowled at him.

"What am I, five?" she retorted, her arms folded defiantly. Ianto took this to mean that she would behave.

The door of his office was open, and Jack was bent over his desk, studying a pile of papers. He was wearing a pair of thick rimmed reading glasses that Ianto had never seen him use before. Ianto straightened his tie then stepped smartly inside.

"I didn't know you wore glasses sir," he commented. Jack looked up, then took the glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't," he said, setting them aside. "Woke up this morning with a blinding headache that makes it a bit difficult to concentrate. Thought it was my aging eyesight, but these just make things worse. Not surprising really. The prescription was written for a Mrs Nora Harris, and she apparently gives the phrase 'blind as a bat' a whole new emphasis." He relaxed back in his chair. "So what's the problem?"

"Not really a problem," he said cautiously, putting his hands behind his back. "You remember my sister?"

"Annie, wasn't it?" Jack said, picking up another scrap of paper. He paused, then grinned over the top of it. "No, hang on. _You_ were Annie…"

"Childhood nickname. She couldn't pronounce my name when she was little, genius that she was…" He trailed off.

"What about her?" Jack prompted.

"She's…here," Ianto finished lamely, looking at his shoes.

"Here? As in, inside the Hub?"

"Only in the reception," Ianto explained hurriedly. "She wasn't feeling well last night. I wanted to keep an eye on her."

"This is a workplace, not a nursery. We don't cater for little sisters," Jack said, frowning. "Or any family members for that matter."

"I know, sir," Ianto said. Jack kneaded his forehead, looking frustrated. Ianto got the impression he was silently counting to ten in his head to avoid losing his temper. But after ten seconds had been a gone and Jack still hadn't moved, Ianto cleared his throat slightly. Jack raised his eyes, looking blankly at him.

"Should I get rid of her sir?" Ianto prompted.

Jack blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his eyes fiercely. "Don't bother. She's fine in the reception." He frowned at Ianto as though trying to work something out. "You're not the impulsive type Ianto. It's a bit out of character to just drag your little sister along. We are supposed to stay anonymous."

"Of course. I just…I didn't want to leave her. She's sort of…my responsibility. Always has been." Ianto stood there awkwardly, waiting for Jack to dismiss him. But Jack had spaced out again, and was staring into thin air with a slightly pained expression on his face. "Sir?" No response. Ianto stepped forwards and tentatively reached out to touch Jack's hand. "Jack?"

Jack jumped, then seemed to just snap back to reality. He gave Ianto a weak smile. "Just don't show her the Weevils. And get some coffee in here, pronto. This headache's just getting worse…"

"Yes sir," Ianto said, feeling relieved. "I promise she won't get in your way."

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"So what happens now?" Alis asked eagerly.

"You sit here quietly while I get on with some work," Ianto said firmly, shooing her out of his chair.

"What's wrong?" Alis asked, dragging up another chair. Ianto was slightly surprised; he hadn't been aware that he'd let any emotion show on his face. Alis raised an eyebrow at him, probing silently for information. He sighed.

"I'm worried about Jack," he confessed. "He seemed…different. Not all there. He just spaced out while I was talking to him."

"Maybe you're very very boring?" Alis suggested wickedly.

"Thanks for the confidence boost," Ianto replied dryly, inwardly panicking. Was he boring? He wasn't exactly extroverted. What if J--what if people thought he was boring? "I'm not boring, am I?" he blurted out, reddening slightly.

Alis studied him, a small smile creeping across her face.

"What?" Ianto demanded.

"There's someone new, isn't there?" she said, looking excited. "You don't care about being boring when you're trying to force me into suicide by talking through the finer points of archiving. And you're wearing different aftershave."

"You're smelling me now?" he said, irritated.

"New bottle in your bathroom," she said smugly. "It's got to be someone who works here."

"How do you work that out, Sherlock?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson. After all, it's not like you have much of a social life," she said lightly.

"Oh thanks very much."

"So, in a government agency, who could it be?" Ianto felt like reminding her he didn't work for the government, but decided to let it slide. He didn't want Alis to start nagging him to tell her exactly who he did work for, and then move on to what he actually did. "One of those sophisticated female spies with femme fatale hair and dark shades?" she asked, her eyes glinting. Ianto imagined Gwen and Tosh in full femme fatale costume and tried not to laugh.

"Trust me, none of the women here are really my type," he said, grinning despite himself.

"And what about that Mr Jack Harkness?" she said smoothly, so nonchalantly that Ianto didn't even notice anything out of the ordinary about this suggestion.

"Captain," he corrected before he thought better of it.

"Oooh, _Captain_," Alis mimicked, her eyes sparkling mischievously .

"Don't start," he said, his neck prickling uncomfortably as he turned on his computer. Alis was far too perceptive at times, especially in recent years. Ianto blamed it on the Psychology A Level. She'd been unbearable after that.

"I thought you had a girlfriend anyway," she said. "Lisa." Ianto stiffened, his fingers freezing momentarily over the keyboard.

"Had being the operative word," he muttered, thankfully having the presence of mind to type in his password. Alis was intrigued by this reaction.

"Bad break up?" she said, a little cautiously.

"You could say that."

"You never told me about it," she said, frowning. After a pause, she smiled again. "Well, good for you. That Jack is an _incredible_ catch," she teased. He glared daggers at her.

"Why don't you keep yourself busy?" he suggested. "I'm sure Jack-the-incredible-catch would appreciate some morning coffee." Alis rolled her eyes but swung herself off the desk nonetheless. "And make it strong," he added. "He's got a nasty headache."

"Oh, because caffeine is going to cure that," Alis said sarcastically, making her way through to the kitchen.

"Strange," Ianto mused, opening an unfinished report on cults that Jack had requested. It was a topic far too close to what had happened on their visit to the countryside, so he was attempting to write it in a humorous way to distract himself from thoughts of…but he wouldn't think about that.

"What is?"

"Well…Jack's never been ill, not in all the time I've known him. Must be something going round. I've had a bit of a headache myself."

"Must be a bug then," Alis called. There was a loud smashing noise. "Oops. Sorry. Oh…that looked expensive…"

"New theory. It's you causing all the headaches," he said, rolling his eyes.

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Mostly, a job at Torchwood was a regular nine to five job. Ianto was often the last to leave because part of his job was to basically clean up after everyone else, so he would usually hang around for an extra half hour to make sure the Hub was in a better state than how the others liked to leave it. Occasionally there would be field trips, like the disastrous visit to the countryside, but the most common disturbance of the nine to five routine was the late night calls from Jack. They meant that something bad had happened, and Torchwood was needed. Mostly they meant that. There had been a few exceptions…

So after the initial shock of being woken by something other than his alarm, Ianto rolled straight out of bed and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Another victim's been found." Jack's voice was clipped and efficient, and the hum in the background meant that he was already in the SUV. "I can't get hold of Gwen, and Owen and Tosh are busy at the Hub with the first victim. Back me up?"

"On my way sir."

"So am I. I'll pick you up in about ten minutes. The victim was found not far from your apartment."

With this cheery thought rattling around his mind, Ianto hung up, dressed himself quickly, and went into the living room to grab his coat. He'd made up a bed on the sofa for Alis so he moved quietly, not turning on any of the lights. Just as he reached the door, he shivered suddenly. A cold breeze swirled around the room, making the pages of Alis's discarded magazine flutter like a bird's wings.

"Alis?" Ianto called out tentatively. He could see now why the room was so cold. The window was wide open. And Alis was not asleep on the sofa.

Ianto ran to the window and leant his head out. The fire escape creaked in the wind, not too far below him. Not too far to jump if a certain someone discovered that the front door was locked, and she couldn't find the key.

"What the hell is she playing at?" he muttered, wondering if he should try and go after her. But he couldn't spot her in the street below, no matter how much he strained his eyes. She could be miles away by now.

A sharp rap on the door made him jump, and for a brief moment he entertained the idea that it was Alis, back from her midnight leap out of the window. But a quick check through the peephole revealed it to be Jack, whom Ianto let in immediately.

"Ready to go?" asked Jack, frowning slightly at Ianto. "Everything alright?"

"Alis is missing," he replied, trying not to sound too anxious about it.

"Ah." Jack stopped still for a moment, thinking. "This is probably not the best moment for her to be running around Cardiff alone in the dark." He fixed his gaze on Ianto. "What do you want to do?"

He struggled for a moment to reach a decision. "We have to find the killer," Ianto said eventually. "Before anyone else gets hurt."

Jack watched him impassively for a moment, then gave Ianto's shoulder a quick squeeze. "OK," he said simply, before striding back out of the door. Ianto heard Jack's feet thumping their way down the stairs. Deciding to leave the window open a little so that Alis could get back in if she wanted to, Ianto followed him.

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The alley was far too close to Ianto's apartment for comfort. Yellow tape with the words 'police line - do not cross' stamped across it blocked the entrance, but there were no police officers standing guard. Ianto suspected that Jack had put it there himself.

After glancing back to check that Ianto was alright, Jack lifted the tape and moved smoothly underneath it, pausing to let Ianto through as well.

"You don't have to come any closer," Jack offered, but Ianto shook his head and followed anyway.

It didn't look like a body. It certainly didn't look like it had once been human. Something had got hold of it and _played _with it, ripping and tearing and shredding until…Ianto swallowed hard and had to look away.

"It's not pretty," Jack commented grimly.

"Sorry I'm late!" Ianto nearly jumped out of his skin as Gwen came charging towards them, looking flustered. "My phone was on silent; I only got your messages because Rhys woke me up snoring."

"Gwen." Jack's voice was low and urgent. "Move towards me. Slowly. No sudden movements."

There was a low, ominous snarling noise…

Wide eyed and frightened, Gwen slowly edged towards Jack.

It was humanoid, two arms and two legs, but it's skin was dark, almost black, worn and cracked like old leather. It's arms were longer than the average human, ending in thick hooked claws that looked like talons, and it towered above them all at well over six foot. Snarling, crouching slightly as though about to pounce, it's lips parted to reveal rows of pointed teeth.

"Do you see that?" Jack whispered, his eyes wide in disbelief. "It's wearing _clothes_. Human. Twenty-first century."

Ianto studied it more closely, straining his eyes in the darkness. A pair of jeans. A T-shirt with a funny message on it. Even ripped up Converse trainers. And the clothes weren't just the remains of some hapless victim's outfit. The creature was definitely wearing them.

Without warning the beast roared and lunged at Gwen, who screamed and ran just out of grasp. To Ianto's surprise the creature stumbled slightly, a brief weakness which Jack immediately took advantage of. Grabbing his gun so quickly that it seemed like it had always been in his hand, he shot the beast in the shoulder. It recoiled for a second with a howl, looking at it's shoulder as if in shock, then focused it's attention on Jack.

Jack grinned wildly, holding his hands out. "Come on then!" he challenged recklessly. Snarling, the creature charged at him, just as Jack charged at it. Ducking under one long arm and narrowly avoiding the claws, he slammed some sort of stun weapon against the beast's chest. The beast shuddered for a moment, howling in pain, then crashed to the ground. The smell of burning flesh and singed hair rose off it, and it did not move again. Looking satisfied, Jack put the stun gun carefully back into his pocket and bent over the beast.

"What the hell is that?" Gwen demanded breathlessly, looking severely shaken up.

"No idea," Jack murmured. "Whoa!" He stepped back from the creature's unconscious form. A soft light blossomed from it's chest and completely surrounded it like a protective cocoon. Shielding his eyes from the sudden glare, Jack watched as the creature's appearance slowly began to change. When the light faded, there was no longer a hideous, powerful beast stretched out in front of them. Lying in the gutter was an ordinary human man, probably in his early twenties. He was considerably grimy, and apart from the recent gun shot wound in his shoulder, he also had a nasty, recent looking bite on his left forearm.

"Oh my God," Gwen breathed. "It's an ordinary bloke…"

"So ordinary that he's sharing a body with a monster," Jack commented grimly. "Tell me, do either of you think this is just a little bit familiar?" Ianto glanced at Gwen, but neither of them spoke. Jack made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. "Oh come on. You're Torchwood employees. Think about why." Again, Ianto and Gwen remained silent. Gwen gave a slight shrug. "OK, let's break this down. Who founded Torchwood?"

"Queen Victoria?" Gwen volunteered.

"And why did she do it?"

"To…to protect the human race," she said, looking at Ianto as if wanting a hint.

"No," Jack said. "What happened to her to make her set up Torchwood?"

Ianto finally understood what he was getting at. "She had an encounter with a werewolf."

"Top marks."

"You think this man is a werewolf?" Gwen asked, her eyes wide.

Jack raised his head, searching the sky. "No full moon. But I think it could be something similar…triggered by something else."

"We need to get him back to the Hub," Gwen said. "Whatever that thing was, it was dangerous, and we have no idea when he'll transform again, or when he'll wake up…" Gwen suddenly gritted her teeth together. Ianto followed her line of sight and understood what she was looking at. Gently, he put one hand tentatively on the small of her back and guided her away from the mutilated corpse and the unconscious man, out of the alley and into the relative light given off by a nearby lamp post.

"Thanks," she muttered. "I just…I saw the…"

"The body," Ianto finished. "I couldn't look at it either. It reminded me of…" He swallowed. "You know what it reminded me of."

"Ianto!" Jack's voice called to him impatiently. Ianto hesitated.

"He doesn't seem to understand, does he?" he said quietly.

"Hardened to it," Gwen agreed. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it? How long until we're like him?"

Ianto shivered as Jack called to him again. Pausing for a moment before Gwen waved him away, Ianto moved back into the alley. He tried his best to keep his eyes on Jack's face so that they wouldn't wander towards the mess that the beast had made of a human life.

"Help me get him back to the SUV," Jack ordered, crouching down to support the man's upper body. Ianto nodded and took hold of his legs. He didn't look away from Jack until they were all safely back in the SUV.

The drive back to the Hub was unusually silent. Jack kept his eyes on the road, not sparing a glance for either of his employees. Gwen had opted for the back seat and had her head propped against the window. Her eyes were closed, although Ianto didn't think she was asleep. He leant back into his seat, watching the dark streets through the windscreen. Almost deserted at this hour.

A sudden wave of tiredness washed over him, and he felt his eyelids drooping. The SUV was warm and comfortable, almost comfortable enough to fall asleep in…

…_Cold, dark. Night. Wind howling around the buildings. It chills him to the bone. Or is that creeping cold which makes every hair stand on end caused by something else? There's more here than the wind…_

_She's standing so still, muttering to herself. "Keep calm. Keep quiet. Don't lose control." He approaches, trying not to make a sound. "Keep quiet. Don't let it win."_

_Her head is bowed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and all the while she mutters. He creeps closer, wrapping his arms around himself to try and keep out the biting, ferocious wind. His feet make the slightest sound -- there's grass underneath them, so he must have stepped on a twig -- and suddenly her head jerks upwards, her eyelids snapping open. Her eyes glow, such a burning orange that he almost feels warmer because of them._

_She screams._

"Ianto?" Someone was gently shaking him awake. "Everything alright? You were muttering."

"I'm fine…just a dream," Ianto replied, rubbing his eyes and smiling weakly at Jack, who was still sat in the driver's seat, watching him in concern. "Where are we?"

"Your place," Jack explained. "We took the mystery man back to the Hub and gave him something to make sure he'd stay asleep. He's in one of the cells. I told the others to go home though. It's too late to work now, and they all looked dreadful anyway. Have I been working you all too hard?"

"I wouldn't know. Making coffee isn't generally very strenuous sir," Ianto said with a small smile. Jack chuckled.

"Invaluable work, let me tell you," he insisted. Ianto nodded and reached to unfasten his seatbelt. But when he turned to the door handle he paused, his hand hovering uncertainly. That screaming…that girl…

"Ianto?" Jack sounded concerned again. "Want me to come up with you?"

Ianto felt like saying no. Jack had been unusually protective of him recently, and Ianto had taken to frightening himself by imagining them at some point in the future, completely domesticated, with matching dressing gowns…but clearly Jack was concerned, so Ianto nodded again and gave the door a hard push, almost stumbling out of the SUV. His chest felt uncomfortably tight, as though he hadn't breathed for a very long time, and he gasped in the freezing night air like a man trying to save himself from drowning. The nagging headache which he had been refusing to acknowledge for hours was back with a vengeance, and he put out a hand to steady himself against the front door of his apartment building without fully understanding how he had got that far. A terrible darkness kept threatening to block out his vision.

"Let me." Jack's hand closed over the door key that Ianto had very nearly dropped. "Guess I really have been working you too hard. Whoa!" Without warning, Ianto had slumped against him. Quickly grabbing one of the Welshman's arms and throwing it around his neck, Jack turned the key and helped Ianto through the door.

"Wait here for a moment," Jack instructed, getting Ianto to lean against the wall while he went back to lock the door. "OK. Two flights up. We can make it."

It was a long and painful struggle to haul Ianto in his semi-conscious state all the way up two flights of stairs, and several times Jack had to grab hold of the banister to prevent them both falling backwards. By the time they reached Ianto's front door, Jack's legs were about to buckle and Ianto could barely stand. Somehow, through a confusing team effort in which Jack could have sworn one of them had two pairs of hands, they managed to get the door open. From there it was comparatively easy to manoeuvre Ianto to the sofa where he could collapse safely.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Jack asked, still breathless. He noticed the open window, which was creaking as it swung lazily in the breeze. Jack shut it quietly and turned up the thermostat. It wouldn't do Ianto any good to be freezing cold, whatever it was that was wrong with him.

"How are you feeling?" Jack sat down next to Ianto, who had at least managed to drag himself into a sitting position but still didn't seem able to talk. Jack checked the man's forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't think you have a temperature."

"Headache," Ianto mumbled, his eyes half closed. He pointed towards a closed door. Jack understood, and immediately went through it to find a small, but extremely clean bathroom. There was makeup scattered around the mirror which he assumed was Alis's, and a cabinet just above the sink. Within seconds he located a packet of aspirin and a tooth mug, which he filled with water.

"Take two," Jack instructed, handing Ianto the packet and the mug. Gratefully Ianto put the tablets in his mouth and gulped down some water, spilling most of it.

"Where's Alis?" Ianto said, trying to raise his head properly so he could look around the apartment. Even this small action seemed difficult.

"I don't know. But we'll find her," Jack promised firmly. "And whatever that man was, he's locked away thirty feet under the ground. He can't get to her."

"There are…other things in Cardiff…"

Jack stayed silent, unsure of how to respond to that. It was perfectly true, of course. But the same was true of every city, he supposed, even those that didn't have a rift in time and space ripping right through them. Sensing that he needed to reassure Ianto somehow, he chose instead to take hold of his hand firmly, and was surprised when Ianto gripped it back just as hard and laced their fingers together. Ianto wasn't one for physical gestures; he wasn't the kind of person who'd clap someone on the back or give them a playful punch, so this small act of contact was enough to get Jack well and truly worried about him.

"Ianto…" Jack stopped. He paused, then gently put his arm around Ianto's shoulders, and smiled when Ianto did not pull away.

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Reviews are likely to induce long bouts of girlish giggles. Please?


	3. Chapter 3

**Relation**

**Part Three**

**Notes: **Well after that lovely stint into cyber nonexistence my fic is back, and it's been getting some lovely reviews for which I thank you all profusely. The next chapter isn't as long as the last, but it seemed as apt a place as any to stop, so I did! Enjoy.

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"So where's our guest this morning?" Jack called as he clattered up the stairs in his heavy regulation boots. Owen leant back in his computer chair, sticking a pen behind his ear.

"Cell 4C," he said, scowling. "And where the hell is Ianto?"

"He's been like this since he got here," said Toshiko wearily as she tried to look at three computer screens simultaneously. "Apparently, _my_ coffee isn't good enough anymore."

"That's because yours tastes like diluted sewage," Owen snapped, glaring at the half full mug on his desk as though he blamed it for his bad temper. "And it's cold."

"Because you've been scowling at it for half an hour," Tosh said.

"Well unfortunately for all of us, Ianto's not coming in today, so you'll have to make do," Jack announced. Tosh looked up, surprised.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked with real concern. "Ianto's never ill."

"He is today," Jack replied, and by his tone the others could tell they would get no more out of him. "Owen. Fancy venting all that grumpy morning rage on our visitor?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Owen said, storming off towards the basement.

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Ianto opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the light. Drowsy and aching from an uncomfortable night on the sofa, he attempted to stretch his limbs slowly. There was a sudden smash which made him jump.

"Ianto?" Alis peered over the back of the sofa at him, her hair flopping into his face. He blew it away irritably.

"Stop smashing things," he complained.

"It wasn't me!" she protested, pointing at the remains of the tooth mug that Jack had brought to him last night. "You kicked it off the table. Why are you sleeping here anyway?"

"And why aren't _you _sleeping here?" Ianto asked, pulling himself into a more vertical position. "You can't just leap out of windows in the middle of the night."

"Well I couldn't find the door key," she said reasonably.

"That's not the point!" he shouted. There was a stunned silence as she blinked at him, startled by his outburst. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "Cardiff isn't safe at night, especially if you don't know it very well. So please, don't just wander off by yourself again. I was worried about you."

"Yeah…I'm sorry for that," she said awkwardly. "I just needed to get out. I don't like being locked in. I get stressed out…y'know, when it feels like there's not enough air in a room?"

"Claustrophobia?" Ianto asked worriedly. "But you're not claustrophobic. Or you weren't."

"I'm not claustrophobic, I just…" She faltered, then moved away. "It doesn't matter." He heard her opening cupboards in the kitchen, getting out a bowl, pouring herself some cereal. "So how come you crashed on the sofa?"

He stood up slowly, one hand gripping the arm of the settee in case he lost his balance. His head felt slightly better after a good night's rest, and after a few steps he was walking well again, if a little stiffly. He leant against the kitchen counter, resisting the urge to start cleaning up the mess she had somehow managed to make by pouring milk into her bowl.

"You're walking like an old man," she commented through a mouthful of Cheerios. "Are you ill?"

"Not sure," he confessed. He hadn't felt sick last night, only exhausted and dizzy. "But I had a bad headache. Jack helped me up the stairs and I must have just fallen asleep. I don't remember much."

"When did he leave?" she asked curiously. Ianto shrugged. "He's a sweetheart, that Captain Jack. I'm glad he's taking care of you. Someone has to."

"He's a good man. And I can take care of myself," he added, glaring at her. "So where did you go last night?"

"A club, for a while," she said, her forehead creased as she tried to remember. "Met a nice guy called Brett."

"_Brett_?"

"And his boyfriend, John," she said, rolling her eyes. "Do you _have_ to act like mum all the time?" She raised another massive spoonful of cereal to her mouth. "Anyway, we chatted for a while and danced for a lot longer, then I came straight back here. I didn't even get drunk," she added, her words muffled through her mouthful of cereal.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

She screwed up her face childishly and rolled her eyes at him, swallowing with unecessary emphasis. Ianto raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned, studying him thoughtfully for a moment. Then she put her bowl down and looked at him purposefully, as if there was something she needed to say. "Ianto--"

Ianto jumped and let out a yell of surprise as something in his pocket started vibrating. Fishing out his mobile, he held up a hand towards Alis to get her to pause and turned away, focusing all his attention on the phone. "Hello? Hello. You really didn't need to check up on me sir. Much better thank you…yes, she turned up…"

He wandered away, seemingly engrossed in Jack's conversation. After a minute he hung up and turned back to Alis. "I'm going to go in to work," he announced.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" she blurted out anxiously, looking frightened. He studied her curiously, slightly bemused.

"Why…?" He trailed off, watching her expression. She looked almost panicked now, and was trying to look at anything except him. "Do you want me to stay here?" She pressed her lips together, refusing to speak. He moved closer to her and put a hand gently on her arm. She flinched away, wincing. "Are you hurt?"

She looked at him for a moment, then slowly rolled up her sleeve. There was a bandage on her shoulder which she unwound slowly, wincing again as it peeled away from the partially healed wound underneath. Ianto bent his head closer, examining it. "When did you get that?" he asked. "It looks nasty."

"About a week ago," she answered quietly, touching the mark gingerly. Obviously it was still painful. "It's a bite. I got bitten by something…I don't even remember it all that clearly. Might have been a bit tipsy at the time," she added, trying to laugh.

"Do you remember what it was? A dog, or maybe…" Ianto's mind raced. There were plenty of things he had met in his profession that would take a bite out of anyone they came across.

"It wasn't a dog," she said firmly. "I don't know…" She swallowed, pausing briefly. "I don't think it was from Earth. It didn't look like…am I crazy, Ianto? Only weird stuff has been happening recently in London. That spaceship on Christmas Day. And you were there when those robots--"

"You're not crazy," he interrupted, feeling the old pain rising in his stomach at just the thought of what had happened at Canary Wharf. "But you should get that checked out by someone who knows what they're doing. Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked, hurriedly trying to wrap the bandage around her arm again.

"Like I told Jack," he said grimly. "Work."

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"OK Tosh, you ready?" Jack asked. He heard a slight tapping coming through his earpiece as Tosh typed some commands into the computer.

"_Ready_," she replied, her voice sounding slightly tinny through the comm. "_I'm recording now_."

"Time for him to wake up," Jack instructed. Owen opened a small metal case that was lying on the wooden table in between Jack and the unconscious man slumped in a chair. Calmly, Owen brought out a syringe and poked it into the man's wrist.

"How long will it take?" Jack asked quietly, watching the man intently.

"Seconds," Owen said, sitting down next to Jack. Sure enough, the man slowly began to stir and eventually opened his eyes. Frightened, he looked around the small, dimly lit interrogation room.

"Where am I?" he muttered, half to himself. Jack watched him impassively.

"Torchwood," he replied. "But you don't get to ask the questions. That's our job."

"What do you want? My name?" the man babbled, fidgeting in his seat. Suddenly, he realised that there were thick metal bands securing his wrists to the chair. "Oh my God, what's going on? Am I in trouble?"

"Quite a bit of it," said Jack, smiling. "But let's not go into that. Owen?"

Owen flipped open a small paper folder and read aloud from the paper inside it. "Paul Andrew Tucker, twenty-four years old. Born and raised in Nottingham, then off to Cardiff for uni, now working in real estate. Parents: Joan and Sylvestor Tucker, married for a grand old thirty-one years." Owen paused. "Frightened yet?"

Tucker didn't reply, just gaped at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

We can pull up pretty much everything about your life," Jack said calmly. "Give us a few minutes and we'll know where you went to school, what you spend most of your time doing on the Internet, and what you bought last week for dinner. But you know what's got us stumped? How the _hell_ you ended up sharing a body with a murdering beast."

"Oh my God," the man said, wriggling in his chair so he was more upright. "You already know…?"

"We know we found a body," Owen said, folding his arms coldly.

"OK," said Tucker, breathing heavily as his eyes flickered from Jack to Owen, and then back to Jack again, trying to work out who it was safest to look at. Their cold faces revealed nothing. "Now look. This is important. _I'm not a killer_."

"Could've fooled me," Owen snapped. "I've just spent the last hour with my hands inside the person you killed last night."

"But…please, that wasn't _me_," Tucker said, sounding desperate now. "You've got to understand. I wouldn't…I could never…it was that thing. Whatever it is that's inside me…it takes control."

"How?" asked Jack immediately.

"I don't…" Tucker faltered, wetting his lips as he tried to find the right words. "I only found out last night. I was in a club, amongst a crowd, and I could _feel…_all those emotions. All that energy. Like a life force or something. And suddenlythere was this feeling, like a rush of blood to the head. You start _burning_ all over, and there are these knives stabbing at your stomach from the inside…and then you've got ten seconds. That's it." Tucker leant forward, eager to share everything he knew now, all his suspicions. "I reckon it's to do with this." He gestured with his head towards the bite on his left forearm.

"Like the werewolf thing," Owen muttered. "It spreads like an infection through the saliva, or maybe some kind of venom in the teeth. I should check out that bite."

Jack nodded. "Right. Mr Tucker. My colleague here wants to take a look at your bite, see why exactly it's had these effects."

"OK," said Tucker, nodding nervously. Jack dug in the pockets of his coat for a key and started unlocking the metal bands that clamped Tucker's arms to the chair.

"We're gonna have to keep you in here," Jack continued. "If we can find a cure for this thing, you should be able to live out a happy and fulfilling life. If not…" Jack left the rest of that sentence hanging. He clapped Tucker on the back cheerily. "Don't worry. My team are the best."

Tucker stared up at him wildly, his breathing becoming laboured and erratic. "What…what did you do?" he gasped. He moaned suddenly and bent double, almost kneeling on the floor. Jack backed off, instinctively reaching for his gun. There was a loud creaking noise, which for a moment Jack assumed was the chair. Then he realised that Tucker's arms were growing, the skin hardening until it was almost black. His nails lengthened into thick hooked claws, and when Tucker looked up at Jack again, his face was no longer human.

The creature snarled and stared Jack with fierce orange eyes.

"Was it something I said?" Jack quipped. The beast roared and lunged at him.

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Reviews would make this fangirl squee. :)


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